


Flower Crowns

by Plasticgalaxy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Beer, Drinking, Drunk Jesse McCree, F/M, Female Reader, Oral, PWP, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, cis female reader, luau party, not entirely canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plasticgalaxy/pseuds/Plasticgalaxy
Summary: You'd been pining after Commander Jack Morrison since you'd joined Overwatch. After a base-wide luau party, you find out he shares your feelings.This was written as a birthday present for my best friend.





	Flower Crowns

Being an Overwatch agent was a full-time job. Especially being a medic, the days were long and thankless and days off were a Thing That Other People Got. Holidays? Forget it. You loved your job though, and wouldn't have it any other way. 

You were originally a mere medical records keeper until Angela had struck up a conversation in passing one day. You'd spilled your guts to her about your passion for healing others and how your time spent in med school never really panned out. Angela saw some spark in you and took you under her wing. She directly oversaw your training, and within months you were her right hand woman. You went from wasting your days away in a stuffy office that didn't even have a window to getting sent on field missions all over the world, patching people up on the fly, and even learning about omnic and biotic enhancements.

This week you were back on base, relegated to administering vaccines and watching test tube experiments cook. You were thankful for the break in action, though, and Angela was glad to have the extra pair of skilled hands back around the ward.

You and Angela were in the lab this morning, making small talk about the pleasant summer weather you'd been having lately, when a set of knuckles rapped briefly on the open lab door. A familiar stern face, topped with spiky blonde hair, popped in. 

“Ladies,” Jack Morrison, the leader at your base and the commander for all of Overwatch, greeted in that gravelly voice of his. You scrambled to your feet, knocking your stool over as you stood at attention. 

“Sir,” you replied quietly. Angela stifled a giggle. 

“At ease, soldier.” The briefest of smirks crossed his rough facial features, and you shrunk embarrassedly. The man was painfully gorgeous, but he was also very much your superior. And while you'd had little interaction with him, he wasn't known for being lax about protocol and formalities, and he wasn't someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. Angela, being a senior officer, was less concerned with being insubordinate.

“So what have you come to bother us with today, Jack?” She leaned her elbows on the table in front of her, tilting her head cheekily to the side. Normally, such a casual display would've flustered the man, who would've barked to her about calling him Commander Morrison instead, and about respecting his authority, and all that stuff. Today, it seemed he was feeling particularly unbothered.

“Luau party on the lawn at twelve hundred hours. I better see you two there,” he ordered, pointing at the both of you. He pushed off the door jamb he'd been leaning against and disappeared from sight before either of you could offer an answer. 

“Luau party?” You righted your stool and sat back down, looking across the lab table at Angela questioningly. You were still rounding out your first year with Overwatch, so you weren't aware of most of what went down here. 

“Oh, he does it during a slow week every summer. Thinks we don't get enough leisure time, so he sets up a barbecue, volleyball, all sorts of shenanigans,” Angela explained, loading some test tubes into a centrifuge and setting the spin parameters. “It's an excuse for the boys to drink beer and play mini golf, but it’s fun.”

“So uhh, do I have to wear anything special?” You asked cautiously while scribbling down some notes on hydroponic seedlings.

“It’s casual,” she explained as the centrifuge whirred mechanically. She paused, waiting until you were sipping from your cup of tea to add, “But if you don’t wear something Hawaiian-print, he might  _ lei _ you.”

You choked and sputtered, slamming your cup down on the table and wiping the dribble from your face with your lab coat. “Excuse me?”

Angela laughed. “You know, leis. Those flower garlands they wear. What did  _ you _ think I meant?” She smirked at you in a way that wordlessly said she knew exactly what she was implying. You thought you had been professional and, well, subtle, about your attraction to Jack, but Angela had picked up on it right away. Maybe it was that womanly intuition of hers. In any case, she loved to tease you about it, much to your dismay.

“Can we talk about something else?” You suggested with a groan.

“Why do you try so hard for him?” Her tone wasn't mocking this time. You met her imploring gaze but looked away bashfully, shrugging your shoulders. The centrifuge beeped.

“Your test tubes are ready,” you pointed out, feebly attempting to change the subject. 

“He's not as hard as he tries to appear, trust me,” Angela assured you with a warm smile. “Go, get ready for the party. I'll finish your data for you and meet you there later.”

The lawn, as Jack had referred to it, was the outdoor recreational area of the base’s compound. There was a mini golf course, a pool, a volleyball net complete with a sand pit, a picnic area, and a well-maintained grassy expanse. The lawn’s usual setup had been dressed up with tiki torches, inflatable palm trees, and several enormous coolers filled to the brim with ice and stuffed with cans of beer. There was also a DJ booth and was that… Lúcio Correia dos Santos?! You would have to see if you could get his autograph later.

You made it to the party at about half past noon. There were several others there already; you recognized Gabe and his new protege Jesse McCree, who were over by the pool, Tracer and Winston were lazily lobbing a volleyball back and forth, and there were many other Overwatch agents that you didn’t know or only met in passing. Jack was tending the coals on the grill. His usual military attire was traded in for khaki shorts, a red and white Hawaiian-print shirt, and the ultimate fashion faux paus, socks under sandals. He turned from the grill to greet someone, and you could see he was wearing a heavy canvas apron that had “raise the steaks” printed across the chest. You shook your head to yourself.  _ Jack and his awful puns.  _

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your fruit platter down with the spread of food on one of the picnic tables. Angela had insisted that it would be fully catered, but you'd never been to a party where you hadn't brought something and it felt awkward to show up empty-handed.

“Hey,” Jack flashed you a smile, “what are you having? Grill’s just about ready.”

“Oh, uh…” Your eyes uncomfortably scanned over the assortment of meats that were laid out ready for the grill, and you spotted a package of veggie burgers.  _ Oh, thank goodness. _ “I'll take a veggie burger.” 

“You sure?” Jack wrinkled his nose slightly. You nodded definitively. “Alright,” he sighed, and added somewhat under his breath, “you girls and your veggie burgers.”

“Thanks, dipshit.” You hadn't seen Gabe standing to the side of you until you heard his voice.  He reached over and playfully smacked Jack on the back of the head. “I'll have a veggie burger, also. Make that two for me, actually.” The two of them began to chat and you used the opportunity to try to slip away. Being that close to Jack was nearly physically painful for you. 

“Hang on a sec,” Jack called after you, “don't think you're getting out of being lei’d that easily.” You stopped in your tracks and you're pretty sure you felt the color drain from your face. You turned slowly, not wanting to look dumb if he hadn't actually been talking to you, and watched as he snatched a colorful fabric flowered necklace from the table and draped it around your neck. 

Maybe his hands had lingered at your shoulders for just a moment too long, or maybe you were imagining it happening in slow motion. In any case, you caught a whiff of his cologne and it made you dizzy. 

“Jack, you're scaring the poor girl,” Gabe commented, punching the commander in the shoulder.

“No, I'm fine, really,” you assured them, laughing weakly. Jack chuckled along with you, or maybe at you, who knows. Gabe simply shook his head with a smile and the two men resumed their conversation as you successfully slinked away. You decided to join Winston and Tracer on the volleyball court to work up your appetite (and take your mind off of Jack) until lunch was ready.

By the time Angela showed up an hour later, you'd managed to relax and begin enjoying yourself, thanks in part to a can and a half of beer. Your ease was short-lived though, as you caught sight of Angela and Jack chatting. They were just out of earshot, especially with the music playing, but whatever Angela had just said surprised Jack, who looked directly at you with raised eyebrows. You broke the eye contact in a panic and chugged the remainder of your beer.

“Yeah! Atta girl!” McCree, who was sitting at the table with you, laughed and clapped and tipped his hat respectfully at you, before chugging his own beer and crumpling the can with his metal hand. You buried your face in the crook of your arm in embarrassment. 

Following lunch, people split off to play mini golf, ring toss, or just dance to the jams for a while. You were content to sit by the side watching the ring toss (“no, it's okay, I don't need a turn. I have terrible aim, I promise”) and nursing yet another beer. You glanced over at the mini golf course where Gabe was accusing Jack of cheating after a fourth hole-in-one in a row. 

“Don't hate the player, hate the game,” Jack laughed, slapping Gabe on the back in a brotherly fashion. He glanced at you with a lopsided smile, but you quickly looked away. You’d worked up a good buzz by this point, but shedding that formal rigidness you’d become accustomed to maintaining around mostly everyone was proving nearly impossible. And you couldn’t stop watching Jack, who was smiling, laughing, and generally the opposite of the gruff, grumpy Commander Morrison you knew and dealt with on a regular basis. God, it made your heart hurt in the best way possible to know he had this capacity for fun and joy.

“Alright alright folks, let’s get it together!” Lúcio’s smooth voice came over the speakers as the music faded. “It’s time for the annual Overwatch volleyball tournament, who will be victorious?”

Agents started gathering together on the lawn, eager to be picked for teams. Jack and Gabe (both now wearing leis on their heads as flower crowns) were delegated as team captains, and Lúcio tossed a coin to see who would pick first. Gabe got first pick, and chose Tracer. McCree looked positively offended, until Jack picked him. Winston quickly got recruited next. The captains began yelling out names rapid fire, one after another. Jack was about to pick the last person for his team, and you sidled through the crowd to try to get a good vantage point by the volleyball court before everyone else would head over and block your view. You heard Jack call out your name.

“What?” You spun around, to see Jack pointing directly at you.

“Since you’re the newest agent here, you’re required to play in the Overwatch volleyball tournament. And you’re on my team,” Jack explained with a smirk, jamming his thumb into his chest.

“B-but, I’m not even good at volleyball,” you stammered, trying to think of any excuse.

“Don’t give me that bull,” Jack chided, “I saw you playing earlier. You’re better than you think.” The thought that he’d been watching you play volleyball made you simultaneously hot in the face and weak in the knees. Or perhaps that was the beer. Suddenly his arm was around your shoulders and he was leading you to the volleyball court.

The game started off friendly enough, but quickly devolved into a competitive, alcohol-fueled free-for-all. There was leaping, diving, spiking, and yelling happening on both sides of the court, with spectators hooting and hollering and Lúcio excitedly commentating. Finally, the two teams were tied two to two and whoever won the next game would be crowned the winner and given bragging rights until next year’s luau party.

Tracer served the ball. McCree leapt up to the net and spiked it back. Winston dove into the sand and deftly sent the ball sailing back over the net. The ball went back and forth several times, tension mounting in the crowd as the final match went on.

Then it happened. It was coming right towards you. This was your moment to shine.

“Got it!” You called, shuffling left towards the ball’s trajectory.

“Got it!” Jack yelled not half a second later, sprinting towards his right. You didn’t even have time to react before the two of you collided. It was like slamming into a brick wall, if that brick wall was made out of a beautiful man.

You fell backwards. Jack fell backwards. The ball thudded to the sand between you.

Your eyes flicked from the ball to Jack, terrified. Had this been on a field mission or even in a training skirmish, Jack would’ve been incensed. He would’ve chewed you out and probably called you a waste of space for good measure.

Jack blinked a few times, as if his brain was having trouble catching up on what had just happened. He then burst out in laughter, wiping a tear from his eye as he leapt to his feet and offered you a hand. Lúcio was congratulating the winners and Gabe was high fiving his teammates.

“You’re… not mad?” You looked up at Jack, tentatively taking his hand.

“Heck no,” he chuckled, hoisting you to your feet. “That was hilarious. Besides, we’ll win next year.” His attention shifted to the team captain on the other side of the net. “Y’hear that, Gabe? Your ass is grass next year!”

“Shut up and drink about it, old man.” Gabe tossed a beer at Jack.

“Shut up, you’re older than me!” Jack cracked the beer and raised it to Gabe before chugging it.

The party wound down as agents trickled out and back to their dorms or posts. You stayed around to help clean up scattered beer cans and collect empty plates to be stacked neatly for cleaning. Even Lúcio managed to pack up and go before you’d gotten a chance to ask for his autograph. Bummer. There was always next year, at least.

Eventually, it was just you and Jack. Gabe and McCree were still around, but the latter had passed out by the pool and the former was busied trying to rouse him.

“Is there anything else I can help with?” You asked as Jack approached you. His shirt hung open, revealing a white undershirt that didn’t leave much of his rippling torso to the imagination. Your pulse quickened and you tried not to stare.

“Nah, cleaning staff’ll get the rest.” He adjusted his makeshift flower crown. His gaze settled on you before drifting off to the side. “Can I uh… walk you back to your dorm?”

He caught you by surprise and your heart leapt into your throat. “Y-yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

The two of you walked in silence as you entered the compound and headed down the corridor towards the dorms. You were very aware of his proximity to you, and made a grand effort, despite your tipsiness, to not accidentally get too close to him.

“Angela speaks highly of you,” he mused, finally breaking the stifling silence.

“She talks about me?” You replied with a degree of disbelief. Hopefully, it was all good things.

“She doesn’t have a single bad thing to say about you,” he continued, “and she’s always amazed with how fast you pick up on new things or find solutions.”

“I’m not that special,” you admitted, blushing.

“You are, though,” Jack insisted, glancing sidelong at you. “You medics are worth a lot more than the rest of us give you credit for. You keep us all going.”

“Well, thank you,” you murmured bashfully, slowing to a stop in front of the door to your dorm. “Well um, this is where I get off.”  _ Wow, what a great choice of words. _ You cringed at yourself.

Jack began to advance on you, and you backed against the wall next to the door. He kept you at arm’s length as he planted his hand on the wall above your shoulder, leaning over you, staring down into your face with intensity. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, you could smell his cologne mixed with his own sweaty musk and it made your heart flutter. Your gaze trailed from his muscular chest up to his face. The hint of blonde stubble that traced along his angular jaw. The way his piercing blue eyes blinked, slowed by alcohol consumption. The wisps of silver that you never noticed at the temples of his blonde hair.

“So uh,” his voice was low and husky, and it broke you out into a fine sweat, “I guess this is where I say goodbye.” His gaze broke away from yours with a hint of nervousness. The makeshift flower crown had slipped low down one side of his brow, laying lopsided on his head. You reached up and adjusted it, letting your fingers trail down the side of his face as you withdrew. His eyelids fluttered as he turned his head into your touch.

It was all too much. He was too close. His cologne was too musky. The breath escaping from between his lips as it tickled across your wrist was too warm. Your self-control was shattering.

Before you could even rationalize your actions, you had gripped him by the collar of his Hawaiian-print shirt and pulled his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a fervent kiss. He hummed a surprised noise against your lips but it lowered into a hungry growl.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you gasped, pushing him away. What were you  _ thinking? _ Jack was your superior. This was so inappropriate. And yet, you craved it so much, you wanted him more than anything… 

“Sorry for what?” Jack planted his other hand on the other side of your head and leaned in close, gazing over your face with half-lidded eyes. You wanted to apologize for your blatant insubordination and wholly inappropriate conduct with a senior officer, but your words wouldn’t come out.

“C-commander Morrison,” you managed to breathe out, his lips mere inches from your neck sending electricity down your spine.

“At ease, soldier,” he purred with a chuckle, “just call me Jack. Please.”

“Jack.” You swallowed hard as his face hovered near yours, chewing at his lower lip. You couldn’t help yourself, and closed the distance between the two of you again. His torso leaned into yours as you kissed hungrily. Your fingers found his belt loops and pulled him flush against you.

A piercing wolf whistle echoed down the hallway and interrupted your moment. Both you and Jack straightened up and quickly turned to the source of the interjection.

“Yeah, get it girl!” A very drunk McCree was whooping and hollering at you.

“There you are,” you heard Gabe growl as he came around a corner. “What the fuck are you yelling about?”

“I’m jus’ helpin’ um out,” McCree slurred, pointing in a general direction that may or may not have been towards where you and Jack stood, shifting awkwardly. Gabe and Jack nodded at each other curtly in professional acknowledgement.

“They don’t need your help, Jesse.” Gabe grabbed McCree by the shoulder, despite bleats of drunken protest from the cowboy, and dragged him away.

“So, um,” Jack cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh,” you responded, smoothing out your t-shirt.

“Yeah. Um, it’s been…”

“D’you wanna come inside?” You blurted boldly, thumbing over your shoulder towards the door to your quarters. Jack nodded, and you slammed your hand on the control panel for the door as he pressed against you and captured your lips into another kiss. The door swiftly slid open and the two of you tumbled into your dorm, you fumbled for the panel to close and lock it behind you without breaking your lip lock with Jack. He pulled away to gaze around your modestly furnished room as you both kicked off your shoes in the entryway.

“So this is where you hide when you’re not on duty,” he mused, his hands resting at your waist. While it was far from lavish, you did have the luxury of your own private room, instead of having to share bunkrooms with the lower ranks. 

“Not always,” you protested, “sometimes I’m in the cafeteria, or the library.”

“In any case,” Jack continued, pushing you back towards your queen sized bed, “I definitely don’t see you around enough.” Your legs hit the bed and you pulled him down on top of you as you laid back, pushing his button-down off his shoulders. He shrugged it off hastily and hooked one of your legs around his lower back, running his hand up the side of your body. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, planting soft, hot kisses there before trailing his lips down to your collarbone. Your breath hitched in your throat as he nipped gently at the skin on your shoulder.

You scooted back further on the bed so that Jack could properly crawl on top of you. And crawl he did, devouring you with a hungry look as his hand pushed up your t-shirt and he kissed your belly. You squealed and squirmed as you buried your hands in his hair, knocking the flower crown off, and yanked him back up to your face. He gave you an amused questioning look.

“I’m ticklish, okay?” You giggled, covering your face with your hands.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he remarked, coaxing your hands into his as he laced his fingers with yours and pinned them above your head.

“Jesus Jack, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you sighed breathily as he made work of your neck again.

“Is it bad? Should I stop?” He propped himself up on an elbow and smoothed your shirt down, letting his hand linger around the hem. His face was full of worry, worry that he’d gone too far, too fast.

“ _ No… _ don’t. Don’t stop.” You helped him out of his undershirt, shamelessly drinking up his muscular torso before he helped you out of your own shirt and you revelled in the skin to skin contact.

Jack worked his way down your chest again, running his calloused fingers over the fabric of your bra where your nipples stood stiff and teasing them until you arched against him with breathless pleads. He tugged at the hem of your shorts and you lifted your hips so he could slide them off of you. His broad shoulders settled between your knees, coaxing your legs further apart as he wrapped his muscular arms around your hips. Heat pooled in your belly in anticipation of sensations that weren’t even there yet. Jack placed kisses against your thighs, slowly, agonizingly working his way towards where you needed him most, all the while making sure his icy blue gaze never left you. Just when you thought you couldn’t take the teasing any more, he hooked a finger around the crotch of your panties and pulled it to the side, pressing his mouth against your sex.

“Fuck, I need you so bad,” you whimpered, bucking against him as he began to lap at your folds, the tip of his tongue encircling your clit at an unhurried pace. A moan escaped you, encouraging him. Your hands found their way into his hair again, pulling and tugging and getting his stubbled face into exactly the right place that made your core start to coil up. As if anticipating your aching need, Jack slipped one finger, then two, into your slickness, massaging them against that spot that made your toes curl.

It wasn’t long before you hit your peak, hot waves of pleasure washing over you, Jack’s name on your tongue as you cried out. You spasmed as Jack rode your orgasm out with you, slowing his ministrations as you came down. He slid his slicked fingers out of you and wiped his face on his arm before crawling up next to you and smooching you softly. The length of his hard cock pressed against your hip as he wrapped a leg around yours.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” Jack commented as he traced a finger up and down your arm.

“No, you are!” You laughed, turning into him and kissing him on the nose. He pulled you into an embrace and rolled over onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled his hips as he squeezed on your rear, and you ran your hands through his hair as you gazed into his eyes.

Was this really happening? Were you really about to fuck your commanding officer? Jack bit his lip as he bucked his erection against you.

Damn right you were gonna fuck your commanding officer.

You leaned down and took the flesh on Jack’s neck into your mouth, sucking and grazing your teeth against the soft skin. He groaned and squeezed onto your hips. You licked at the spot, trailing your tongue town to where his neck met his shoulder and nibbled at the muscle there. Jack writhed beneath you, and you smirked against his neck, imagining the marks he’d have the next day.

Jack watched you with hooded eyes as you sat up, shifting yourself down to his thighs as you made work of the button and fly on his shorts. His black silky boxers bulged out obscenely, and you ran your fingers along the thinly clothed hard length, eliciting another wanton groan from Jack. You didn’t have time for teasing though, you wanted him  _ in  _ you. Especially if that cock felt as wonderful as it looked.

Sliding Jack’s bottoms down just enough for him to kick them off the rest of the way, you slipped out of your own panties and straddled him again, leaning down to kiss and suck on his lips for a few moments.

“Hey, you okay with this?” He pulled away from the kiss momentarily, looking with concern into your eyes.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t okay with it,” you assured him.

“I just don’t want you thinking that you have to because I’m your superior,” he barely whispered as he averted his gaze. You pressed a palm to his cheek and turned him to face you again.

“You’re gonna fuck my brains out because I want you to, Jack.”

You readied yourself as Jack took himself in hand, and eased yourself down on his length with a sigh. Jack swallowed hard and a muscle in his jaw jumped.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” he choked out, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I’m not gonna last long.” You leaned forward to kiss him some more as he started thrusting in a slow, leisurely pace. The rhythm picked up and you arched up, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge again, and it was only a matter of minutes before another orgasm was wracking your body even harder than before. You fell forward, your nails digging into Jack’s chest as you came. It wasn’t long before Jack began rutting into you harder, more erratically, and at the very last second he pulled himself out, grunting your name as he spilled his seed all over his stomach.

The two of you collapsed together, a panting jumble of limbs. As your breathing normalized and sleepiness crept up on you, Jack cradled you in a loose embrace, brushing your hair from your face. You suddenly erupted in laughter, covering your face with your hands.

“Heh, what?” Jack furrowed his brows, confused.

“I just can’t believe this happened,” you giggled, rolling out of his grasp. “I’ve been wanting this since the day I met you.” Jack followed you across the bed, wrestling you down and kissing on your face.

“Wanna hear some shit?” He chuckled, pulling the blankets over the both of you. You allowed yourself to be cuddled back into his embrace as sleep overcame you. “Me too,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your head.


End file.
